


Reach Out

by frostios



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Original Work
Genre: M/M, Sharing a Bed, Unreality Mentions, slight angst with comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-19 04:46:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29620812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frostios/pseuds/frostios
Summary: First night in the Tower.
Relationships: Freedon Gordman/Barnaby Calzone
Kudos: 7
Collections: Reincarnation





	Reach Out

**Author's Note:**

> This fic deals with mentions of unreality throughout it! It's Freedon's first night with someone else for the first time after twenty years of hell, so he doesn't really think any of it is real. Be careful if that kinda stuff bothers you!

Stone. It was always stone. 

Freedon stared up at the stone ceiling above him. Stone ceiling, stone walls, stone floor. Like nothing had changed. He’d only been completely on his own for a month, finally free of his contract, but now he just found himself in yet another job where a higher power would make him go fetch things. Figures. Time is a flat circle and what not.

At least there were other people here, that was promising. And they all seemed to be much friendlier than the individuals he’s had to deal with for the past couple decades. So not completely the same.

He gripped at the warm blanket he was currently curled up in. Yeah, this was different too. He never had a comfortable bed like this or blankets that kept him warm with his old job. And he can feel these in his own hands and surrounding his body. Definitely real.

Different. Different…

Freedon tries not to glance over at the bed on the other wall. He’s already been staring way too much today, and he’s not sure the other man would enjoy someone staring him down while he sleeps. But Freedon can’t help it. He hasn’t seen Barnaby properly in years and just having the affirmation that he was by his side once more settled his worries somewhat. 

But a dark voice has been whispering in his mind throughout the entire day. And Freedon can’t tell if it’s his own hazy brain pulling his fears to the surface or if it’s _him_. It just keeps repeating over and over.

_This isn’t real. An illusion. Wake up._

Freedon chews the inside of his cheek. 

He knows the one sure fire way to check and see if something is real or not. Just have to reach out and touch whatever it is. If your hand passes through it, it’s an illusion. If it’s solid, it’s real. Simple.

Freedon had kept his hands to himself all day. He could tell Barnaby wanted to reach out to him the entire time, probably to wrap him up in one of the warmest hugs Freedon’s ever received. And he wanted it. Still wants it right now as he finds that his gaze has landed itself right on Barnaby once again. Damn it.

He wants this to be real so bad. He’s frankly terrified of the very real possibility that this is just another fabricated illusion. It’s been a nice illusion so far, though. Why should he push further just to see if it will shatter around him? And what horrors would lie beyond if the veil were to drop. Freedon doesn’t know if he’s ready for another twenty years of that.

The thoughts won’t stop racing around his mind. He can’t shut them up himself. Freedon knows he’ll never get to sleep this way.

He stares harder, watching the rise and fall of Barnaby’s chest. Barnaby used to snore. The memory hits Freedon hard and his heart rate spikes.

Barnaby used to snore. Freedon remembers this. He would occasionally wake up in their shared cot earlier than Barnaby and then just sit there and listen to his deep snores rumble against him where Barnaby’s face had been tucked against Freedon’s chest. It left mornings calm whereas the rest of their day would be tough and emotional. Freedon used to love waking up early just for Barnaby’s snores.

He wasn’t snoring now.

Freedon found himself standing up and holding the dagger he kept hidden in his boot. There were always mistakes in illusions when they included people that were dear to him. Freedon used to not be able to pick them out when they were first used against him, he was usually too put out of it to think clearly, but over time he got better. And now here he was staring down yet another fucking illusion.

He crossed the few feet that separated their beds and now stood over Barnaby’s silent form. Freedon’s heart ached. He knew it had been too good to be true.

Now was time to shatter it. Freedon reached out and grabbed Barnaby’s shirt.

Barnaby’s soft cotton sleep shirt. Freedon froze.

Hazel eyes with hints of blue flashed open and a strong hand shot out to grab his own where he was still clinging onto his shirt. Freedon dropped the dagger in surprise and the sharp sound of the blade hitting the floor cut through the air.

Another memory came to Freedon then. A night where Freedon came into their tent late. It was silent then too. He had thought Barnaby was fast asleep but the moment he made a noise, the other man’s eyes opened and he sat up. When questioned, Barnaby admitted that he found it difficult to sleep those days without another body by his side. At most, he would lay there in a state halfway between being awake and asleep, always ready to spring into action if needed.

That’s why there had been silence. Barnaby hadn’t been asleep, not really.

The smaller man blinked at him for a moment, emotions of confusion and fear etched into his features. He was clearly waiting for some sort of explanation. Freedon took in a rattling breath and tugged at his hand that Barnaby was still holding. Barnaby let go.

“ _I...didn’t know if you were real or not._ ” Freedon felt so fucking stupid as he signed out the words. “ _You weren’t making any noise._ ”

“Freedon we’ve been together all day, why wouldn’t I be real?” 

“ _Thoughts were just loud._ ” It was way too late at night to go into a whole explanation. Freedon didn’t even know when he would be ready to share it when he was fully conscious. “ _I’m sorry I woke you._ ”

“Nah, you didn’t. I’m barely half asleep most nights anyways.”

Freedon nods and stands there. This was his cue to turn back around and go force himself to sleep in his own bed. But he was rooted to the spot. 

Now that he was remembering the days he used to sleep with Barnaby tucked against his side, he found himself craving it so so much right then.

Barnaby regarded Freedon for a moment. He looked conflicted, as if weighing something in his mind. And then he scooted closer to the wall and patted the spot next to him.

“If you want? You could sleep here tonight, you know I don’t mind. If you think it’ll help.”

Freedon sat down. Barnaby’s features softened with relief. 

It was still a twin size bed, though, and Barnaby was a wide guy, so it was a tight fit. Barnaby pressed himself against the wall in order to give at least a little bit of space between the two of them. That was the _opposite_ of what Freedon wanted though, and he knew that couldn’t have been comfortable at all. So he reached out, slowly so Barnaby could realize what was happening and verbally protest if he wanted. He wrapped an arm around the other man’s shoulder and pulled him close.

Barnaby almost seemed to melt into his side and Freedon felt like he wanted to cry. They situated themselves again once the uncertainty was thrown out the window. Barnaby ended up half on top of Freedon, his own arms circling around Freedon. He rested his head against Freedon’s chest. One of Freedon’s hands found itself settled on the back of Barnaby’s head while the other gripped tightly at his soft shirt, rubbing the material between his index finger and thumb. Barnaby let out a long sigh and the tension left his body.

Freedon found himself staring up at the stone ceiling again. It wasn’t much different on this side of the room. But now he had the comforting weight of Barnaby pressed against him, reminding him that he was there. He was real. And Freedon would never let him go again if he could help it.

Freedon listened, trying to hear the dark voice that had been plaguing his mind for longer than he could remember at this point. He knew it wasn’t completely gone, just had quieted for the time being.

Barnaby began to snore. Freedon had to hold himself back from crying once again.

_It’s real. He’s real. This is all real._

Freedon was out within minutes.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, I do not reread my writing because i do not care so if you see a mistake you simply do not <3 Thanks for reading mwah


End file.
